I am the Very Proud owner of a Daniel Franco t-shirt.

Don't hate me because I'm fabulous.



Or not.

I watched my two shows last night, and what a snooze fest THAT was.

First of all, the ANTM "Where Are They Now?" proved to me that even the most successful of the also-rans were eminently forgettable. I saw Yaya's Radio Shack ad at Christmas time, and didn't recognize her, but found the ad and that character annoying. Hmmmm. Maybe I recognized her on a cellular level?

Ann in black hair? Ick. Yoanna's too-short bangs? Also ick. Tocarra? Still cool. Kim? Still annoying. Lisa? Still fabulous.
Then we moved over to the penultimate Project Runway episode, and, ugh. All Santino, all the time, all redemption arc. I don't want that useless egomaniac redeemed, I want him to suffer for his hubris. Still, despite all Santino's protestations of really being a nice guy, and learning not to talk trash, and how he's just a scared, insecure little gay boy underneath all his bullying, there he was, thirty minutes later, talking shit about Dan and Chloe. (Her collection looked like a sofa... if Dan couldn't see what was wrong with his clothes, there was something wrong with Dan...)

I'm hoping that Tim's underwhelmed-ness regarding Daniel was merely a ploy to throw us off the scent of his winning, and not a big ass sign that Satano is going to go home with the gold. That would just be awful.

The final challenge of having to make one last piece seemed to be a cruel ploy to crush all of the designers souls, once and for all. And what was up with having to choose a dogsbody to work with out of the discarded designers? And why Diana?

I was thrilled to see Daniel snatch Nick away from Santino. (Again with the eye-rolling, Santino. Enough, already.) Tell me that he didn't choose Nick exactly for that reason: just so Santino couldn't. But I think that someone (ahem, Chloe) should have used Daniel Franco's tailoring skills.

Another question: did this happen before or after the taping of the reunion show? Why did they all diss Kara? And since Kara was the decoy, did she have to make a 13th garment, too?

BTW, I totally agreed with Tim about the "shop class" quality of Daniel V's purse handles. Yet another ick.

Still, all things being equal, I loved Daniel's collection (except for those wonky little tab thingies in the middle of the chests... which I suppose are his military details... whatever.) Santino's one starburst-pleated dress was beautiful (and no, my tongue did not shrivel up when I said that). And the comment that Chloe's line was very Balenciaga made me hate those enormo-sleeves just a little bit less.

So. Who will win? I'm still hoping for Daniel V, but getting worried that it may be Santino after all.

Ick.

If consistancy is the hobgobblin of little minds, then the editor I work with must be a fucking genius, because the bitch never copyproofs the same way twice. One week we're using en dashes in certain places and the next it's all about the em dash.

For six months, every time we use the word "noon" in a time (Noon - 2 p.m.) it's been capitalized. As of this morning, it isn't.

Grrrrrrrrr.

Here's yesterday's thoughts from my boss:

Why aren’t any Democrats raising this issue:

OK. So the White House says it is the height of injustice and racism to launch kneejerk attacks on the Dubai Ports deal because Dubai has been such a useful instrument in the so-called War on Terror.

Keeping in mind that this is a STATE-owned company, what assurances can Mr. High Crimes & Never-Been-Briefed offer that the government of the nation state of Dubai will always be a government pre-disposed to cooperate with the United States? It wasn’t too long ago, for example, that Iran was a sea of pro-U.S. tranquility/stability/oil in the Mideast and Lebanon was the “Switzerland of the Mideast.” But I think those descriptions, in the words of the Nixon White House, might no longer be operative. Can you imagine what a fix we’d be in if Nixon had sold a half-dozen U.S. ports to the Shah of Iran in 1972? Two generations ago, Yemen was a conservative pro-Western mini-state. Then it became one of the most radical regimes in the world. Now it is struggling to regain its footing and rejoin with the Western World. Libya is pointed to with great pride by the boosh neo-cons as proof of the success of their war of aggression on an Islamo-fascism that is partly of their own making. But who’s to say the Qadaffi will not fall victim next month or next year to a young, radical firebrand of a colonel … somebody exactly like the M. Qadaffi of 35 years ago. Things change. All over. Particularly in such a volatile region of the world as Jim Baker’s Mideast.

So maybe Dubai is the United States’ greatest, strongest, most reliable ally in the world today. In that part of the world, that’s zero guarantee that tomorrow that state couldn’t be the second coming of the Taliban.

And, of by the way, our great and good and cooperative friend Yemen just recently stood by and allowed several dozen Al Qaeda operatives to escape from a local prison. Sure makes me feel good about turning our port security over to a country who’s greatest claim to fame is that Michael Jackson has decamped there.
In other news, I have found a reason to love Richard Gere, something I never thought I would say in my lifetime. But the quotes that have been circulating after his acceptance of the Hasty Pudding Award, have finally won me over. If you haven't seen it yet, here it is:

"I'm asking why I said yes to this," Gere said of the student roast. "'Cause we're all bozos on the bus. All of us, and especially in this world and in this country right now, the biggest bozo on the bus is actually driving the bus."

The emphasis is mine. But who would have ever thought that the man who is the Dalai Lama's BFF would be quoting Firesign Theater. I may just have to swoon a little here over that.

Finally, to round out my reasons to live today, tonight we get to see the great and glorious Tim Gunn visit the finalists of Project Runway in their natural habitats. Maybe, though, natural isn't a word to use with that useless asshat Santino... And as if that isn't enough to keep me on the couch tonight, it is also the ANTM "Where Are They and What the Fuck Are They Doing Now" show, prior to next week's season 6 opener.

Fuzzy bathrobe, bunny slippers and a jug o' plonk and I am good for the night.

I have written a summary of the Project Runway Reunion Show twice. The first time the window crashed after about five paragraphs. It just crashed again after I had discoursed on everyone but the final three.

Fuck it. Let's make it short and sweet. Trust me when I say this was a lot funnier in long form.

Lupe was out of control on some kind of heavy drugs. I have a rule that I live by, and that is this: There are two types of drugs in the world. The first treat or cure diseases. The second are for recreational use. Never mix up the two. Lupe clearly did that and then some. Intervention required.

Zulema has an alter-ego? Puh-leeze. That's for comic books and Disassociative Personality Disorder. And frankly, Tshangi was a bitch and a ho, and in no way discernable from Zulema.

Santino is a big asshat. He's always been an overbearing, abusive, bullying asshat, and he always will be. Like most bullies, he's also a coward, refusing to own up to his behaviour. Furthermore, he is a talentless blow hard and I find it hard to believe that anyone, male or female has sex with him willingly.

Daniel Franco was either edited unfairly or Heidi needs to pull a restraining order on him ASAP. I tend to believe the former. I also believe that the weird look in his eyes (always) is due more to being extremely myopic and wearing contacts than anything more sinister.

Andrae needs his own Project Andrae. Or the montage of him and the revolving door needs to go on the Viral Video site for downloading. Also? He was robbed on the "Inspiration" challenge.

Kara Janx wuz robbed during any number of challenges, but especially on the Garden Party challenge and the makeover challenge.

Diana is cute, was cute and had on a scarf that I'm sure she knit herself, seeing as it was as much there as it wasn't and her use of negative space was her greatest strength and singular vision.

If I can remember half of what I said in either of my other entries, maybe I'll amend this one. Or not.

OK. Item the first. Many thanks to RJ for stepping in to be my emergency backup during my surgery. I was rescheduled (without my knowledge) for 3 hours earlier than I had planned, so the RLA was supposed to be in class, and couldn't get a substitute.

If you ever have to sit around and wait for surgery, RJ is your girl. We were having quite the yocks before they came in to sedate me. After? Maybe we continued to have the yocks, but you can't prove it by me.

My reaction to sedation is this: Oh! I think I feel it startizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Part of the cocktail they gave me was sodium pentathol, known to all movie watchers as "truth serum". What truths did I reveal under the influence of this powerful drug? That I wanted to go out for sushi.
This actually came as quite a shock to me, because I quit eating the raw stuff after my housekeeper's son developed brain worms as a result of sushi. Now, I'd like to think, in my effete snobish way, that we eat at different sushi bars, but a brain worm is a brain worm is a brain worm (take THAT Gertrude Stein) and so I quit. Cold tuna, if you will.

Another thing that RJ and I found infinitly amusing was that in addition to drawing a big blue circle on my tushie where he thought the lump would be found, the surgeon felt it necessary to also write "YES" in big indelible letters next to said circle.

I believe that this is testament to the fineness of my white ass, but RJ says that it's just an extra precaution against cutting the wrong side. Like they all kept saying to each other "not the tatoo side" but I suppose that YES and a big blue circle help. Still, it's my fine white ass, and it's indelible ink, and so who is to debate with me about why the YES is there.

Item the second is for my readers in California. Larry Cafiero, a fellow traveler from my salad days is running for office in your state. Here is his website. Vote for him. He's really a fine fellow, loves children and cats, and has more common sense in his little finger than most politicians have in their entire bodies. This, of course, bodes badly for his career in politics.

Item the third. Are they fucking kidding me?

Item the last in this list. Tonight is the reunion show for Project Runway. Oh, the blissful bitchiness of the dishing. Can my heart take it?

I'm goofing around today, trying to find things to occupy my mind and hands before I go in for surgery tomorrow. I want to play in my sewing studio, but I'm afraid to handle needles and sharp objects like my sewing shears. I think the safest thing for me today is knitting and reading.

It is such a tourist-bureau-perfect day in Miami that I'm debating about going to see the Dale Chihuly exhibit, or make a run to an outdoor market. If the RLA drives, that should be safe, huh?

PS: I've nicknamed the offended digit "Frankenpinkie" and it must be said in the best, Gene Wilder "Young Frankenstein" accent, thusly:

FRRRAHNK-uhn-peenkie.

Things are going to hell in a handbasket around here. I took a header down the stairs leaving work yesterday and just smashed the crap out of my left knee and right shin. Finally made it home, whimpering and whining, started dinner for the RLA and promptly sliced my left pinky finger to the bone with a chef's knife that was sharpened as a birthday present. So. Five stitches and a tetanus shot later, we ate leftovers for our Valentine's day dinner. Still, the nurse said not to worry, this wouldn't prevent my having surgery on Monday to remove the lipoma from my right tushie dimple. Of course, I can't use any sort of pain killers between now and then, and my typing is compromised by the huge bundle of bandages on my pinky....

PS: just got up to make myself some tea, and slopped scalding water over my left hand... the one with the stitches. Maybe I should just go home and stay in bed until my surgery?

I bought this the other day on i-tunes.

I know that I bore you all to tears with these stories, but. I have talked about that tour for thirty years. I had always been a rocker, and I saw a lot of acts — top acts during my college years, but that September night in 1975 changed my life. It was held at the Miami Jai Alai Fronton. It was no where near sold out. They made us wait for a long time before they finally opened the gates and let the audience in.

No. Really. Not hyperbole. It. Changed. My. Life.

And this show is from that tour, just a month or so later. It's the same set list that I've remembered for the last thirty years. The opening number was "Thunder Road." There was a single blue spotlight on this skinny guy in a black touque and a denim jacket. He had his back to the audience. He started to play the harmonica and turned around. He was wearing a black wife beater under the denim jacket. He was hairy and scraggly and that harmonica cut straight into my soul.

By the third number ("Spirits in the Night") my camera was stowed under my seat, and I was standing on the arms the seat, dancing. At one point in the song (I think it was when he sang the lyrics about Crazy Davy being really hurt and crawling into the lake in just his socks and his shirt), he threw himself flat on the stage (still singing) and crawled off the edge and into the crowd. I never took a shot that night, although somewhere in my storage unit is a photo that my boyfriend took.

This CD captures all of that. I can seen the blue spot. When the first strains of the harmonica play, it still cuts straight through my soul.

This is why, people. This is why he was and is the Boss. This is why I haven't missed a tour in 31 years (except the Devils and Dust tour, and it was at the Hard Rock Cafe, and it was a solo show, and I know what those are like. He lectures the crowd and gets really, really, SERIOUS. I love you, Bruce, but not enough for that.)

Years later, I met Bruce at the wedding of The Coolest Person In The World TM, and I told him that I had moved to New York City after that show. That my boyfriend wanted me to stay in Miami and live with him, but I'd said (and I apologize to you, my readers, for this; I apologized to Bruce when I told him; but remember, I was only 20 years old when it happened) "I can't. Tramps like us, baby, we were born to run." I told Bruce that I'd never forgotten that show, and that despite the tiny venue and even tinier audience, it was as good as any sell-out show I'd seen him do at the Garden.

Bruce said that he remembered that show, too, because so few tickets were sold they almost cancelled it. They had a hard time getting Danny's piano up on the stage. He said thank you. I said, no, THANK YOU. I never would have come to New York. I never would have met The Coolest Person In The World TM.

Buy this CD, and try to remember what the world was like when Bruce first took the stage, but before he changed the world of rock and roll.

I have a few things I'd like to rant about today, if you don't mind, and I know you don't.

1. Why the FUCK is Santino-the-Spawn-of-Satan STILL on Project Runway? Is he THAT good for ratings? He can't possibly be. I loathe him. The other designers loathe him. Tim fucking Gunn loathes him (and disses the producers in his blog cast this week, saying about the Evil One that he's only there because his "angels" come in and protect him every week).
But no. His greasy, assface is still torturing my tv. He made a catsuit that made a long, lean woman look short and lumpy. The sleeve fell off on the runway, people!! OFF!!! And still he's in the top four.

The highlight of the night, for me at least, was seeing the preview of next week's show where that overly-egotistical fathead Jay tells him "I hope you're canned."

Amen and hand to sky, sister. And not soon enough. They got rid of lovey Uncle Nick, the sweetiepie. (Who, although he was auf'ed wearing pink, was not auf'ed wearing a bead-dazzled hot pink leotard, like poor Emmett.)

2. Why should I believe that the US really foiled a plot by terrorists to fly an airplane into the tallest building in LA, when that story is being told by the biggest liar ever to sit in power? Huh? And, oh yeah, that happened four years ago. Uh-huh. Yeah. Sure. Right. Whatever. Didn't think to mention it earlier, did you?

3. Scooter Libby is saying that "higher ups" in the White House told him to leak classified materials to the press. Is that why we are hearing the story about the Day the White House Saved LA? To make it above the fold, and leave poor Scooter and his dirty plea bargaining buried in the back pages?

4. Of course, there is the little matter of our poor female reporter, sending out her pitiful little pleas to be saved by those same ass-hats. But, what the fuck, huh? You takes the job, you takes your chances. Ask old Bob Woodward, right?

5. There is no excuse for this. None. If it's so cold that you need to wear socks, then wear a pair of shoes. Period. Real shoes, not flipflops. How hard is that? And, PS, a cardigan sweater is designed to button up the front, not hang open in the back, and it would keep you warmer that way, too.

I have written a book, people.

It is a self-help book for young women going off to college.

It is titled "The Girls Guide to College That Your Parents Won't Want You To Read." Yes. It is exactly what you think it would be like.

I need a publisher. Or an agent who can get me a publisher.

Blahblahblahblah TERROR blahblahblahblah TERROR blahblahblahblah 9-11 blahblahblah TERROR blahblahblahblah COMPASSION blahblahblahblahblah TERROR blahblahblahblah RESISTANCE IS FUTILE blahblahblahblah YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED blahblahblahblah TERROR blahblahblahblah AGREE WITH ME OR DIE blahblahblahblahblah TERROR

Today's entry is from my boss.

"ABC News says that Bob Woodruff’s near-death experience at the hands of the “last-throes” Iraqi insurgency will not deter this vaunted journalism powerhouse from doing its job. While ABC vows to soldier on, while its staff keep Woodruff in their thoughts/prayers, perhaps all concerned should think about this:


If ABC News had done its job and accurately reported in the late ‘90s on George Bush’s serial failures in his business and personal life …

If ABC News had covered George Bush as aggressively in the 2000 general election campaign as it aggressively and mercilessly covered Al Gore …

If ABC News had covered the Florida recount objectively, instead of taking its marching orders from James Baker and Bush’s cousin at FOX News …

If ABC News had accurately portrayed the pre-9/11 months of the Bush Administration as the most incompetent, disastrous first year of a president since at least Warren Harding …

If ABC News had remained a responsible independent news gatherer instead of a flag-lapel-pin wearing cheerleader after 9/11 …

If ABC News had exposed the Rove/Bush slash-and-burn/destroy-your-political-opponents-at-all-costs-with-putrid-lies tactics of the 2002 election that returned a GOP majority to the U.S. Senate …

If ABC News had accurately portrayed George Bush as a malicious divider not uniter for his entire presidency …

If ABC News had put the Senate ruckus over George Bush’s incompetent/racist judicial nominees in the context of the scores upon scores of moderate (minority) Clinton nominees who were derailed by racist GOP senators in the previous decade instead of covering the Bush nominations as some evil Democratic conspiracy of obstruction and petty spite …

If ABC News had covered the run-up to George Bush’s manufactured war by actually examining the false evidence and straw man arguments presented by Mr. High Crimes and Misdemeanors to the American people and Congress …

If ABC News had covered the run up to George Bush’s manufactured war by giving equal time to critics of Mr. High Crimes and Misdemeanors’ war policy (instead of the 90+% air time given to supporters of the rush to war) …

If ABC News had fully and extensively covered the mass of lies, cover-ups, corruption and bad judgment that were the modus operandi of both the war and the “reconstruction” …

IF ABC News had insisted on holding Colin Powell accountable for his lies before the UN instead of giving him a free pass on his campaign of lies and deception …

If ABC News had refused to cover George Bush’s manufactured, phony campaign events in ’04 as real news events …

If ABC News had refused to allow itself to be manipulated by Rove and George Bush’s wealthy Texas fiends by giving any credence at all to the Swift Boat Liars and the campaign of untruths …

If ABC News had refused to be a mouthpiece for the Bush Campaign’s spin of the day every day in ’04 …

… Then, maybe, just maybe, Bob Woodruff never would have been in Iraq this weekend and would not currently be on a plane back to the U.S. with a part of his brain still lying somewhere in Iraq.


ABC News has no one to blame but …"

Yes. I did. When the RLA and I signed our contract with the new storage company, we also entered to win a home theater sound system. Damn. They called me today to tell me to come get it. You all know how many movies I watch at home (all of them). And the RLA is a total, certifiable audiophile, and the son of another. He's got more speakers hooked up to the tv than I can count, no two pairs alike, and one pair was his father's Acoustic Research from the 60s.

This is just too cool.

True.

Because I:

a) bought a sweat suit

b) confronted my brother about his misbehavior and he admitted wrongdoing

c) did not have a martini Saturday or Sunday, although there was one waiting in the freezer

d) all of the above
And the answer is d.

But, just for the record, I bought the sweat suit because both pieces (hoodie and pants) were the same price as just a hoodie or just a pair of gym sweats. It's a lovely shade of teal. I also told the RLA that if I wore both parts at the same time anywhere other than to the gym, he had my full permission to divorce me, and I wouldn't contest it.

I'm wearing the hoodie now. I wore the sweat pants all day yesterday. I did change into my jeans for the grocery store run.

And another thing: the folks at Television Without Pity seem to have felt that my separated at birth: Osama and Santino — was somehow inappropriate and took down my post. This on a subject where not only did someone else say he was SAB from Rasputin, but linked to a photo of Rasputin's, uh... naughty bits in a jar of formaldehyde. And I hope that was a doctored photo. Or it was a horse named Rasputin. Ick.

Hmmph. No. A quick Google, and there it is, along with a story that seems to come from the Russian version of News of the Weird.

Stick a fork in me. I am done.